Hide and Seek
by kat2747
Summary: The rest of the prophecy. My end to the story of the Galactica, the fleet, and humanity. Inspired by "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap.


_where are we?_

It was desolate, it was cold. It made their throats ache, irritated, rough with swallowing of jagged disappointment and shock. This place wasn't what they had been promised. This wasn't the dream that had led them through the darkness, or the light that had allowed them to sleep at night. It was euphoria, and then it was a wasteland.

_  
what the hell is going on?_

The history of this radioactive soil could only be found in bits and pieces, dates and chemicals, not truth. And as if the Gods were conspiring to sting them once more, it was fleeting. Only a few precious minutes standing on firm ground, only a taste of rancid air and feel of uncanned atmosphere, before the radiation became too much and back into the ships they went. Confused, wretched.

_the dust has only just begun to form_

They sat together on the Raptor, unable to speak. She kept a hand firmly on his forearm, needing to feel that one dream was still alive and unharmed. If Earth was no longer their refuge, than he was hers. She had that at least. It was the fleet she feared for, it was her people who would now find themselves utterly lost. He was her home, but they would be wrapped in a desolation that she couldn't assuage, and they could never have dreamed of.

_crop circles in the carpet_

She had told him once that the people would hate him for his lies. Their fledgling partnership had just broken through its shell, and she had warned him. But for all her prophecies, neither of them could have imagined that the home they sought could have been real, much less that they would find it, nor that it would have been long destroyed. The web they had spun together, of hope, and promises, survival and necessity, had been intricate, delicate, and suddenly it was as radioactive as the planet they had just departed.

_sinking feeling_

The ride back to their true home stretched far past its distance. His ship awaited them in orbit, but the space between them and the settling in of truth was much further. What would they do now? Where would they go? How could they have been so wrong? Where in the sacred scrolls did it say that the Gods would be so cruel, that their hope and will would be tested so greatly? How would they lead them if there was now where to lead?

_spin me round again_

They walked in silence back to his quarters, their home. They took in the feeling of comfort that the familiarity brought them and held it tightly. He poured the drinks and she took off her shoes. The normalcy was reassuring, and the liquor burned. She had the sudden thought that she wished they had never found Earth. If she could have done it all again, she would have continued the farce, and the search and the hope. They could have found a new home, a vibrant, living, bountiful home. If they hadn't ever found their way to Earth…

_and rub my eyes,_

He touched her shoulder as she stared off into the hallow, she turned and smiled, and rested her head on his strong arm. The only redemption was that they were not alone. This wasn't either's to bear, they were united, and unshakable. He ran his hand lightly up and down her arm, so grateful to be able to hold her close, that she was his. He could smell the scent of her hair, even through the odd smells of their travel, and their strange destination. He could feel his own heart well with disappointment, with fear, and found it tempered by the feel of this woman in his arms.

_this can't be happening_

"Do we even stop to find out how this happened?" She whispered softly, the first words spoken between them. He thought for a moment, caught off guard by her directness, and in admiration of her ability to see straight to the core. "Do we give up on this completely?" He responded, the disbelief and uncertainly overwhelming. "There are no scrolls, or prophecies to guide us through this one," she said her thoughts wondering thought he path that had led them to this place.

_  
when busy streets amass with people_

The tens of thousands of people they led, the unknown number of human-like strangers they had partnered with, where would they go now? It had been years and they had come so far from that place of destruction to the world that was meant to be hope. How many more blows could the Gods unleash upon them?

_would stop to hold their heads heavy_

She settled more comfortably against him as they both allowed their minds and hearts to race through the possibilities, the questions. The weigh upon them, between them, was unbearable, it wasn't fair. They were going to shrug off the burdens of wandering, of fighting, and of leading, upon the world they had dreamt of, and longed for. And yet again, the weight of their race hung about their shoulders.

_hide and seek_

She thought back to that night on another world, where they had spoken of the future, secret and fragile. A cabin, and life, perhaps a reprieve from cancer and duty. It was silent but steady, they held onto it as if the dream itself was keeping them alive. And it was, as it shimmered in the distance, the horizon line that ever eluded them.

_trains and sewing machines_

And the dreams of their people, the simply necessity of forming life, of creating a civilization, dashed again. With peace between peoples was supposed to come peace for each individual, and yet they again found themselves far from it. There would be no peace without a hope. There would be no hope without a path.

_all those years_

When the tests returned a picture began of form, how could they move forward without knowing? It had been almost thirteen hundred years. Radiation surveys, searches, and yet more mystery. An entire world, and built up civilization, and not a trace. Bridges, buildings, ships, crumbled beneath their feet. And the question echoed through the atmosphere. Why?

_they were here first_

The people who had destroyed this planet had done so completely. Remains were being tested, the Thirteenth Tribe would be revealed. But would they ever know? All this had happened before, but how could it happen again? This kind of destruction seemed somehow familiar. Could another world, in another galaxy have created for themselves the same history?

_oily marks appear on walls_

They spoke with their more trusted advisors. His son and almost-daughter, her greatest enemy, and the two newly revealed cylons who they called friends. They argued and they pondered, over the few clues they could muster. As if deciphering a new set of scriptures, trying to catch the forms that moved behind the light. Was it a question of survival, or was it a question of prophecy? What did this mean for their future, for now… and for the future of their destinies?

_where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,_

The days passed with unanswered questions, but the nights became a refuge against the desolation that was shown in the light. They formed a new society, almost overnight aboard the warship, the rest of the fleet would take more time. There were differences, no one could look the Colonel in his eye, the President no longer confided completely in her aide. But they lived, cautiously. And they began anew, without even knowing it.

_the sweeping insensitivity of this still life_

It pulled them together tightly, it bound them in anguish. They left the home that had promised them so much, for the dark desolate unknown. There were no more answers for or on the planet Earth. They would not find a home nor a refuge there. But they would forge an existence, as they had once before, escaping a demolished civilization for a haphazard one in the expanse of space.

_hide and seek_

He loved her. Completely, as she loved him. But there was nothing to be done as the cure seemed to slip away, slowly, painfully. For his son there was no denying his future lay with the woman who had led them all to that destruction. He had led her through the guilty wasteland of her own design, and together they moved on. It was only together that either one could forgive themselves.

_trains and sewing machines (oh, you won't catch me around here)_

The Colonel had a child, a cylon baby. The first. He was too old to change diapers, but it was his son that led him away from the remembering, the guilt, and the drink. The Six was the mother of his child and the keeper of his salvation. The cylons held out a strange hope now, with the birth of their future, that they could live, truly live – and die.

_blood and tears (hearts)_

With that hope, with the chance of life, also came an individuality. They were no longer Six and Three. They were named, and the one became the many. They knew accident and tragedy, they knew pain and with time, they even knew love. It was all they ever dreamed of.

_they were here first_

And then it happened. The hybids prophecies became clear. All this had happened before, and it would happen again. A new tribe was headed for a new promised land and there they would live until… destruction.

_Mmmm whatcha say,  
Mmm that you only meant well?  
well of course you did  
Mmmm whatcha say,  
Mmmm that it's all for the best?  
Of course it is  
Mmmm whatcha say?  
Mmmm that it's just what we need  
you decided this  
whatcha say?  
Mmmm what did you say?_

It was chaos as the truth was revealed. Cylons pit against cylons, human against friend. If God wasn't leading them than who? How could God allow this to continue? How could it be worth it to create if everything if the fruition would again be destruction? The man of God, the faithful one, knew not. Some followed him, nonetheless, desiring to live a pious life, and to end the word of the prophecies. Others followed their original prophet, the dying leader that asked them to choose to believe. The two could not stand together.

_ransom notes keep falling out your mouth_

And then came the day when the dying leader fulfilled her destiny. They set foot on a new home together, this time a beautiful land, with a wondrous promised. For everyone but her, and her love. It was only a matter of days now.

_mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs_

The faithful and the followers came together to mourn her, but lived apart, thereafter. And a civilization bloomed upon her grave.

_speak no feeling no I don't believe you_

Until it came to be that their civilization could not tolerate existence any longer, and what had happened before, happened again. A new generation, those who had forgotten the names of the Travellers, and their dying leader, found a way to destroy what she had promised, and they had built.

_you don't care a bit,  
you don't care a bit_


End file.
